Sweet Memories

Sitting here this morning waiting to see if it would rain.  A few drops here and there, but now it is raining.  What the Navajo would call a “female rain”. Gently and steadily falling, soaking into the ground, watering the plants. I have opened the arcadia door and the window next to the table so I can hear and smell the rain.  I have to say, it does not smell like the rain in Arizona.  That is a smell unique to the desert and I am a long way from the desert. But it is very pleasant and refreshing.

The sound takes me back to a time when my sister, Jan and I were coming home from ASU to the mobile home that my parents had bought when my dad retired.  It was my first year of college and Jan had gone back in her 30’s to finish her degree. We had carpooled that day and had pulled up to the house and were sitting in the car waiting for the rain to let up.  We could see under the patio awning our dad struggling to put together a barbeque that he must have bought that day. My dad cooked one thing and he was master at it, and that was steak. We had a fabulous built in grill in our house in Tempe and he would grill on the back patio sometimes during the ASU football season for friends and family.

We didn’t want to get soaked so we sat there just chatting and watching as dad got more and more frustrated with the assembly process.  At one point we could swear that the legs were coming out of the inside of the bowl. We got to laughing really hard but decided we needed to get out of the car and save the barbeque and whatever was within dad’s reach before he started throwing things. Now anyone that knew my dad, knew he was not at all what you would call handy and we always joked about how he thought a hammer was the tool to fix everything.  So, before the hammer came out, we got out of the car and ran over to help.

We sent dad inside to get a beer and watch TV and we took a look at the project. Now in dad’s defense, the box did not come with directions, only a paper with a picture of a couple of barbeques, none of which matched the one he had bought. So in-between our laughing and trying to figure out what model he had bought we disassembled what had been done and tried to match the picture as best as we could. We put it together and took it apart about 3 times before we were satisfied that it was indeed a barbeque that would do the job it was intended for.

For 30+ years this became a favorite memory that Jan and I periodically would bring up and today it was a sweet reminder of my sister, who was always there for me. She was the one that even when she did not agree with me, like home-schooling, would be in my corner cheering me on.  So, Jan, here’s to you, looking forward to once again laughing with you as we share this story in eternity.